Things are rough all over
by Chocolate Bar
Summary: Things really are rough all over. Lucy will see that and realize that things aren't always that easy for socs.
1. Lucky and Fred

Hello, it feels good to be writing again! I know I have taken…a slight pause in writing, but now I think I can actually take on another fic! I plan on finishing this particular story. That is if the tuna casserole that my mother has made for supper doesn't kill me. No offense, mother. Well, erm, I hope you like it. Now the other half will talk

Blameitonthegovernment other wise known as Frito

Hiya peeps! I'm Chocolate, you don't know me, but that's okay. Yeah…no one in their right mind really cares what I have to say so…ENJOY!

- Chocolate otherwise known as Maniac

Disclaimer- I own whatever my original characters names are. Haven't decided yet.

Chapter one

I am writing this on the behalf of my best friend, Winifred O' Reilly. We have been best friends since as far back as I could remember, well, at last since I started school in the first grade. We liked most of the same things and we both agreed that our teacher, Mr. Meza, needed a gray wig to match his gray hair instead of a brown one. But that was just an opinion.

We both like Paul Newman films and loved reading books. We couldn't draw for our life and our singing wasn't much better.

So, why would we ever have trouble in our friendship? I have asked myself that a multitude of times and every time it comes down to the same thing: her family had has money and mine doesn't.

My mother and her mother get along just fine, but they only do it for us. They really can't

like my mother as much. However, my mother likes her just fine.

We try not to let our differences get in the way of having a good time. Her life is just so easy. She gets everything she wants and she feels so no pain. I whish I could say the same, but I can't. I get the things I need, but after that, there is no extra money for things that I want. Sometimes I get jealous of her. Well, most of the time I get jealous of her.

I call Winifred Fred. Everyone else her Wini, but when I was little I couldn't pronounce Wini and called her Whiny instead and she got mad. So I called her Fred instead and it stuck.

Fred calls me Lucky. My real name is Lucy Mathews. The valentines Day when I was in the first grade, Fred spelt my name on the Valentine's card she gave to me as L-U-C-K-Y instead of L-U-C-Y. From then on out I was Lucky instead of Lucy. It wasn't a horrible nickname, it just wasn't true. What was I lucky for? An older brother who drank beer and was a junior in high school at eighteen years old? Was I lucky for a father that walked out on my over worked mother and her two children? Was I lucky to live on the 'bad' side of town verses the good one? No, I wasn't Lucky for any of those things. But still, it wasn't a bad nickname.

Fred and I were in the seventh grade. We in two of the same classes and we had P.E. together. We hung out on the weekends and after school, so we had the opportunity to be with each other often.

We both had the same sense of humor and liked to goof off. But at the same time, we were both serous students and received good grades to show for it, though my grades weren't as good as hers. We both thought that our English Teachers had some issues, especially mine who complained about her over weight dog. It was kind of disturbing actually.

We had a crush on the same boy, Philip Smith. He was a great guy, but to me he was just a schoolgirl fantasy. Because he was a 'soc' as they would call him, he would always remain a crush.

That didn't stop Fred from going to talk to him, which she didn't. But she could if she wanted to.

A lot of people thought we were weird. Money wise, I was a ' greaser' and Fred was a 'soc'. Personality wise, we were neither. To use it didn't matter, but my brother, Keith, would warn me stay away from them.

I remember the first day of first grade. I came home from school and told him about Fred.

" Stay away from them," he said as he slapped my hands. He was only twelve then, but he thought he knew everything about life: greasers are good and socs are bad. That isn't necessarily true. I mean some of them can be pretty nasty to me, but that is beside the point. The point is, well, erm, that not all socs are bad. There we go. I think that's a fine point, if I don't say so myself.

Thing get rough for me sometimes, and Fred is there, always helping me get through it. And if Fred ever had any rough times, I would help her get through it. But since Fred never will or ever had any rough times, I have nothing to worry about, right?

There we go. All finished with this chapter. I really hoped you liked it. GO DURAN DURAN. Sorry, I kind of have this obsession with 80's music and Green Day. It's kind of a weird combination, but who really cares? Umm, what else. Oh, yeah, I accept flames, but since I live in the south, it gets hot enough as it is. Who cares. I like reviews, mind you. Now a word from Chocolate

blameitonthegovernment otherwise known as Frito

Yups, all finished. So, we all know what you're going to do now. You're going to press that lovely button in the corner and review! Of course you are! Bye!

Chocolate otherwise known as Maniac


	2. The Other Side

I am updating! Go me! Ummm, Thanks for all the reviews. Now, I just want to say that this story is definitely going somewhere. I already have most of the chapters planned. Okay, here we go!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the truth.

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Chapter two

Fred and I looked completely different. Fred had brown eyes and mine were gray. Fred had light brown hair that had blond highlights in the summer. My hair was a rusty brown color that hung down my back. We wore the same things. I didn't wear those short skirts that the other girls wore in my neighborhood. Long skirts cost the same as short skirts, so money really wasn't an issue. Besides, Keith said short skirts were only for girls that wanted attention from boys. I didn't argue with him. His word was the law. Or at least it was to me.

One Friday night, after a hard week at school, I went to Fred's house to spend the night.

"Lucky," she said as I walked to the door. "This way." I walked into the familiar house. Most of the time I was over there. I could probably consider it my second home. I walked to Fred's room and sat down on her bed.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"I don't know." She absentmindedly looked out the window.

"Winifred," I heard a shout from downstairs. "Get down here this instant!" It was Fred's mother.

"Coming, Mother." Fred yelled back. She hurriedly stomped down the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, I followed her.

"Winifred," Mrs. O'Reilly scolded Fred as soon as she walked down the stairs. "I want you to hang the laundry up to dry."

"Yes ma'am" She walked over to the washer that had just stopped and began to pull the wet laundry out and put it up to dry.

"I can't believe you, Winifred," Her mother continued. "You invite someone over without even doing your chores."

I couldn't believe this woman. The washer hadn't even stopped when she came home form school. I wanted to argue, but that probably wouldn't help Fred too much. I watched her take the rest of the laundry out of the washer and into a basket. We walked outside to the backyard to hang the clothes out to dry.

I started hanging the clothes up to dry when I noticed these weren't even her clothes. They couldn't be. They were her mother's clothes. Fred was doing her mother's chores.

We finished hanging the clothes up and went back into the house.

"Winifred," Mrs. O' Reilly called.

"Yes, ma'am," Fred asked through almost clenched teeth.

"Didn't report cards come out today?"

"Yes ma'am."

"May I see yours?"

"Yes, ma'am." Fred turned and left for her room. She returned a few minutes later with a tan envelope.

"Here," she said as she handed her the report card.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady," she scolded Fred.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Aren't you going to apologize?" her mother asked.

"I am sorry,"

"That's better." She opened the envelope, looked at it, and then frowned. You have a B in history. Why?"

"There was a war I didn't understand," she said. I could tell she was starting to get mad, even though she didn't come right out and say it.

"Do better."

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, ma'am," she corrected Fred.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, go."

Fred turned around and sulked up the stairs. I hesitated before going up. I started up the stairs and " BAM" I heard a door slam. I waited in the hallway for a few minutes before going into her room. I figured she needed some alone time to calm down.

After a while, I decided it was safe to knock on the door.

"Fred?" I asked as I knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she called. I opened the door and found Fred lying on her bed, her arms crossed. She looked like she was near tears.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No," she nearly yelled.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's not you. It's my mom."

"Oh."

"I can never please her. If I say ' yes ma'am' she wants me to apologize." She paused. " You now what Lucky?"

"What?" I asked.

"I couldn't go on without you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I would of killed myself or run away if it wasn't for you."

"Oh," I said. "I couldn't get on without you either."

"Yes you could," she spat. "You have Bob."

Bob was a friend, her real name was Roberta, but we just called her Bob. All three of us got along just as well, but Fred didn't think so. She thought Bob didn't like her and only liked me. She was convinced that if she were to die, I would be perfectly content because I had Sue. But that wasn't it. I couldn't get along without her. I whished she could only realize that.

"You know what else Lucky?" She paused to see if I would answer. I didn't. "I think I'm really depressed. "

That was a shock to me. She was pretty much happy, except for those few times when she got mad.

"Oh," I said. I didn't know what else to say. It wasn't everyday that my best friend told me she was depressed. "You should tell your mom."

"I can't, Lucky, I just can't."

"But you should."

"No, no, I can't. She wouldn't understand."

"Yes she would."

"I'll think about it."

"Good."

We stayed in silence for a long time. Neither one of us spoke. I realized Fred needed me. I realized I had to be there to help.

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Review please, flame if you wish, it's a bit over 40 degrees over here so we won't mind. But only if they are so mean they'd make Dal cry.

Thank you to:

Krista – Thank you for reviewing and I'm glad you like it so far. – Chocolate

Thank you. So, you like the characters? Well, I do too. The originality? Well, thank you. I do appreciate it. - Frito

Chronic Sarcasm – I'm glad you liked it. Trust me, I had a heck of a time correcting Frito's grammar. Glad you like the name Lucky, got any ideas for Fred? – Chocolate

My grammar is perfect, I know. I didn't make that many grammar mistakes. Well, thank you very much for reviewing - Frito

Thank you for joining us for this attraction. Please join us again for the next chapter- Frito and Chocolate


	3. Tell?

Thanks for the wonderful reviewers. Story comes first, then the thank yous. Thank you for your patience. Now, a word from the delectable treat.

–Frito

First of all I am not a 'delectable treat' no one will be eating me, ever, don't even think about it. Second of all, I am so sorry this is late it has been sitting in my inbox for a couple of weeks, but I was too lazy to edit and blah, blah, blah. I know, bad me, but anywho, it's here now so enjoy!

-Chocolate

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Thank you very much.

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Chapter three

The next morning, Fred's mother gave me a ride home. I couldn't help but think about what Fred had told me the night before. She had always been so happy, but now she isn't. I couldn't believe what she had told me. It was impossible for such a happy person to be depressed. It just wasn't right.

When I got home, I absentmindedly sat on the couch and that's all I did. I didn't read. I didn't turn the television on, or listen to the radio. I didn't even notice when my brother got up.

"Hey, kid," a voice startled me out of some sort of trance. It was Keith. "Where's mom?"

"I think she went to work," I muttered, not really putting much thought into what I was saying. 

"But it's so early."

"No it's not," I said as I glanced at my watch. "It's nearly nine o' clock." 

"I got up that early?"

"Yeah, miracle isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," he said cocking an eyebrow. That was something our father could do too. That's all I really remember about him, but everybody would say I looked just like him. I didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

"Something on your mind, kid?" he asked. Some times I think he forgot my name and that's why he called me kid, or maybe that's just how all big brother's address their kid sisters.

"Yeah," I said as I played with some fuzz that was sticking out of the couch.

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

"You can talk to me, you know."

"Yeah, I know," I lied. I couldn't talk to anyone and if I could, Keith wasn't the one to be talking to.

"I'm going over to the Curtis's," he said as he headed toward the door. Then a thought hit that  
puzzled me greatly.

"Keith?" I asked.

"Yeah, kid." 

"Why aren't you hung over?"

"I didn't drink last night." He smiled at me and cocked a brow. Of course he didn't drink last night.  
What did he take me for, a fool? He probably just sobered up before he went to sleep.

"Whatever," I said.

I got up and went for a walk. I walked passed the park. That was the same park Keith's friend Johnny killed that kid. I hadn't met that friend, but Keith took it mighty hard when he died a few days after killing the kid. It's been a few months since it happened, but you can still see that it hurts him.

My brother isn't the type of kid you would exactly call understanding. He would sell me out for a  
lifetime supply of beer. I'm serous. He would. He would sell our mother for beer. There was nothing he liked better than a beer or whiskey or something like that. Some nights he would leave, calling on his way out that he meant to get drunk.

I think he still misses him, our father, I mean. We used to be a happy family. We were poor, but happy. Dad lost his job and couldn't pay the bills. I can still remember the night that he left. He packed his suitcase and put on his shaggy gray coat. I wanted to go with him, but he told me no. I was four years old, but I remember it so well. I put my arms up signaling I wanted to be picked up. He picked me up and gave me a hug and then set me down. He walked out the door and that's the last time I ever saw him. Keith was mad at me for a long time after that because I kept on asking when daddy would come back and he never answered because he knew he would never return. 

I made myself turn my attention back to the current situation. It was Fred and her unstable emotions. I didn't know what to do. She would probably get mad at me if I told her mother or the counselor of her feelings. I decided to write her a note.

I ran back to the house and found a pad of paper and a pen. I didn't know how to begin. After a moment hesitation, I put my pen to the paper and started to  
write.

_Dear Fred_

There is always I time to be joking and there is always a time to be serous. Now is the time to be serious.

Enough is enough. You can't hide your feelings forever. If you're so unhappy let your parents know. I'm sure they I would want to know. Talk to the counselor. I'll do it for you, if that's what it  
takes.

You are probably mad at me right now, but I don't care. If you're mad, then so be it. You may regret telling me your feelings, but I needed to know.

Please talk to somebody about your feelings.

Your friend,  
Lucky  
  
I read the note once. I read it again. I knew that I had to give her this note, but when? I soon decided to put it in her locker first thing Monday morning.

Monday rolled along fast. I rushed out the door and to school. I got there early so I wouldn't run into Fred when I put it in her locker.

I made the familiar journey to Fred's locker from mine. I folded the note so it would easily go through the air vents. I slid it in.

I got to my first class early and waited for the bell to ring. Fred and I didn't have a class together until second period, so I would have until then to face her.

The next period came too fast. I carefully avoided eye contact with Fred. Luckily, I was able to avoid talking to her too. I wasn't sure if she got the note, and I wanted to go talk to her, but I was afraid of what she might say.

Between second and third period, I found a note in my locker. It was Fred. She had received my note. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but I didn't. I  
opened the not up. It read…

_I'm fine Lucky. I really am. I'll be okay with you  
here._

I knew I wouldn't always be there. Since I didn't want to be the one to push her over the edge, I just decided to leave it like that. I decided to see if she talked to someone  
first before I took action.

At lunch I decided to go to the counselors office. I left the lunchroom and headed toward the office.

"I need to see the counselor," I told the secretary.

"Did you fill out a slip?" she asked.

"No," I admitted "But this is really important. It  
can't wait."

"Is it about a schedule change?"

"No," I nearly screamed. "It's really important."

"Okay," she said. "She will be right with you. Take a seat."

I sat down in the fold up office chairs and waited for Mrs. O' Brain, the counselor. Finally, she came out from behind the office doors.

"Come on," she motioned me. I stood up and walked with her to her office on the other side of the school. She opened he office up and took me inside. 

"Okay," she said. "What did you want to see me for?"

"My friend, Winifred O'Reilly told me she has been feeling rather depressed lately." I said, stumbling over my words, but finally managing to spit it out.

"I see." She said. "What else?"

"She told me that she wanted to run away or kill herself."

"When was the last time she told you this?"

"Last Friday."

"Has she been saying this often?"

"No," I said. "This is the first time she told me."

"I'll call her parents," she said. " Cheer her up when she gets down."

"Okay."

"Make sure she knows how much good there is to life."

"Okay." 

"And tell her that my door is always opened."

"Okay," I said.

"And tell her that family counseling is always an option."

"Okay," I said as I opened the door.

I left the counselors office with an excuse for why I was late to class. Fred would soon find out and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

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I hope you liked it. Now, my dear friend the candy will take over. –Frito

Hope you enjoyed. Again, sorry it's sorta late, but you know it was worth it! -Chocolate

Thank yous:

Reviewer- See we put Two-Bit, or 'Keith', in! Go us! Happy? If so, review again! Have a nice week!


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